Playing Santa
by Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner
Summary: Bobby pays a special visit to the boys one Christmas Eve. 10th in Will's 12 Days of Christmas fic series for Jack.


Title: "Playing Santa"  
Author: Pirate Turner  
Dedicated To: My beloved Jack  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Bobby pays a special visit to the boys one Christmas Eve.  
Spoilers: None  
Warnings: Holiday fic  
Challenge: None  
Word Count (excluding heading): 1,610  
Feedback: Yes, please!  
Archive: WWOMB, -- Anybody else, ask, and I'll probably grant permission.  
Disclaimer: John, Dean, and Sam Winchester, Bobby, and Supernatural are & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
Author's Note: This is the tenth in a series of 12 Days of Christmas fics written with my beloved Jack in mind but also shared with you, our readers and, hopefully, our fans. They will be unbetaed the first time they're sent out, as Jack does the betaing, and he'll know nothing of these fics until they hit his box. Happy Holidays, however you celebrate! :-)  
Author's Note #2: And aye, I realize that the boys have gone on record a few times saying they've never had a good Christmas, but there's no telling what happened after Bobby left to ruin this one for them to. As for they're never having been visited by Santa, they later found out it was Bobby and that the real one never showed.

Bobby knew John would kill him when he found out, but he donned the costume and accepted the mission nonetheless. He waited until an hour after he had seen John leave before going to knock on the door.

Two little boys looked up at the sudden rap upon the door. Sammy trembled. "D-Dean, who's that?"

"I don't know," Dean told him, picking up a nearby baseball bat, "but you stay here and be quiet. I'm gonna go find out."

Gripping the bat, Dean went to the door. He peeked out, rubbed his eyes, and looked again. The big man in red still stood there. He frowned. It couldn't be possible! He undid one lock at a time, stopping periodically to look and make sure the big man was still there. From time to time, he would shake his head and rub his eyes, and then a knock would sound again. Dean would jump, look again, and return to unlocking the door. Finally he swung the door open . . . and slammed it shut as he found the man he thought he would find standing on the other end.

"Dean," Sammy called from the doorway of the room, "who is it?"

"I thought I told you to hide and be quiet."

"You did, but you're taking a long time. What's going on? Is it a monster?"

"No," Dean replied slowly, although he wasn't at all sure if that was the proper answer.

"Then who is it?" his little brother asked again, his tone turning an edge whiny.

"It doesn't matter. It's nobody."

Dean cringed when the man knocked again.

"That ain't nobody! That's somebody!"

"Sammy, go to bed."

"I'm not sleepy, and you're just trying to get rid of me, so I'm not going!" Little Sammy stuck out his tongue at his big brother.

Dean sighed and hung his head. He had no choice, and then a booming voice on the other side of the door made him jump a good foot. "Ho! Ho! Ho!" it cried. "Let me in, Dean Winchester! I've come with presents!"

Dean frowned. There was something funny about that voice. It sounded like somebody he knew, but he couldn't figure out who.

"SANTA CLAUS!" Sam cried, running around Dean to the door. "IT'S SANTA CLAUS! HE'S FOUND US AT LAST!" He pierced Dean with an accusing look. "And _you_ were gonna make him stay outside!"

"Sam, wait; you don't know that's really Santa Claus!"

But it was too late for Sam had thrown the door wide open and was beaming up at the great, big man in red. Dean's eyes grew as round as saucers. He reached out for Sammy, but even as he did, Sam rushed forward into Santa's waiting arms.

"Oh, Santa!" Sam cried. "I thought you'd never come!"

Santa gave Sam a long, hard hug as he watched Dean backing up, his hand groping behind him for a weapon. The little boy's face was pale, and his mouth hung open in either shock, horror, or perhaps a mixture of both. Bobby couldn't tell which for certain, but it wasn't the reaction he had expected at all.

With his arms wrapped around young Sam, who kept squeezing him hard, "Santa" spoke to Dean. "I'm sorry I couldn't find you before now, Dean. It's not that I didn't try; it's just that your father moves you around so often."

"Uh huh," Dean said, nodding unsurely.

"I did try," he said again, "and I brought you and your brother both something."

"Really?" Dean cautiously slid one foot closer, and then another.

"Yes, I did," Santa continued. He put Sam down, fondly ruffled his hair, and then turned to dig into his bag. Bobby had filled it with lots of empty presents just to make appearances right, so there was quite a bit of rattling as Dean moved forward to place himself between "Santa" and his brother.

Bobby expected no less than to find Dean standing between the fabled stranger and his little brother when he turned back around, holding a long present wrapped in sparkling, gold paper. "This is for you, Dean." He placed it carefully into the young boy's hands.

Dean took his time unwrapping the present as he was constantly looking up to make sure Santa wasn't making a move on Sammy or himself. When at last he was able to lift the lid, the little boy's mouth dropped open in an amazed gasp, and his eyes grew even bigger. They shone in awe. "Wow!" he breathed.

"That's for you, Dean," Santa told him as the boy continued to gaze in wonder at the jewel-encrusted dagger with a dragon's head, "to help you protect your little brother, Sam, better."

Dean's eyes sparkled with tears he refused to admit to as he looked up at Santa. "Wow!" he repeated, at a loss of words. He looked back down at the dagger, and the ruby red eyes of the dragon winked up at him. Dean was so careful that he almost handled the dagger reverently as he placed it on the floor; then he rushed into Santa's arms, crying, "Oh, Santa! I'm so so so so so so so so so so so so sorry I ever thought bad of you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" He nearly squeezed the air out of Bobby's lungs.

Bobby was careful to keep the charade in place when he finally separated from Dean. He fondly ruffled Dean's hair as he had Sam's, but unlike Sammy, Dean glared at him. The glare quickly disappeared, however, as he saw his dragon dagger gazing up at him and returned his attention to it.

"Santa?" Sam's tiny voice piped back up.

"Yes, Sammy, I have something for you too." Santa reached into his bag a second time and brought out another package. This one was secured in blue wrapping paper decorated with snowmen, reindeer, and snow. He handed it to Sam, who tore into it immediately.

Sam squealed as paperback books began falling out into his lap and then something small and brown landed on top of him. He cocked his head curiously to one side as he looked at it, then picked it up and squeezed it softly. "It's squishy!" he exclaimed in delight.

Dean grinned over at his brother as Sam felt of the little teddy bear. He didn't care that he had a few more presents than he did. As far as he was concerned, he had the best gift of them all! He picked up the dagger and moved it through the air as though he was fighting an invisible opponent. From this night forward he'd always be able to protect his brother!

Bobby grinned down at the children from behind the white, fluffy beard. "He'll keep you company at night, Sammy, while you sleep and Dean watches over you."

"Yeah, and I got lots and lots of reading to do too!"

"You sure do," Santa said as he rocked back on his booted heels.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Sammy exclaimed as he, once more, rushed into his arms.

Bobby hugged Sammy tightly as he wished he could be with the boys all the time. He loved John, but there was so much more that these children needed that his friend was no longer able to give them. John refused to let him stay with the boys, though, and he'd be home soon. He'd be home and furious if he discovered Bobby there.

"There's only one thing," Santa said.

Dean looked up, his eyes suddenly wary.

"Whazzit?" Sam asked from where he was muffled in Santa's thick jacket.

"If your father asks you about the toys, you can't tell him that they came from me."

Dean's mouth fell open. He couldn't believe what he was hearing! _Santa Claus_ wanted him to lie?! Sam, who was too young to consider the repercussions, just nodded.

"Your father has hidden from me for a long time, Dean. I'm afraid he thinks I'm one of the bad guys, just like you did."

Dean hung his head and put all his concentration on moving his foot around on the carpet. He was embarrassed to admit that he _had_ thought that.

"That's okay," Santa continued, reaching over and lifting Dean's chin so that he could look into the child's eyes. "I understand. Not everybody understands good magic. But I want to be able to find you boys again next year, so don't tell him, okay? Just . . . Just tell him that you got the teddy bear and books for Sammy, and hide the dagger. You know he'll take it from you if he finds it. He won't think you're old enough."

Dean nodded slowly. "That's true," he admitted.

Bobby was suddenly stopped cold by Sam's innocent question. "Santa," he asked, looking up at him, "where's your reindeer?"

Bobby thought fast. "I, hum, I had to leave them behind this year," he explained. "They're sick."

"Aw! I'm sorry."

Dean looked at Santa suspiciously. "How'd you get here then?"

Santa placed a finger beside his nose. "By magic."

"Then let's see you leave by magic," Dean countered.

Santa's eyes grew wide as Bobby frantically spun through his mind for an answer to that challenge. Headlights suddenly washed the front of the house. "Your father's home."

Dean grimaced, then quickly took control. "We've gotta hide this! Come on, Sammy; help me hide it." The boys turned to hide their presents. After they had hidden them, Sammy jumped into bed. Dean turned around, and his mouth hung slightly agape. Santa was gone! He grinned. It had to be magic, after all! "Merry Christmas, Santa," he whispered. Then, aloud, he said as he crawled into bed beside his brother, "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

**The End**


End file.
